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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23328391">Stardust</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nande_chan/pseuds/Nande_chan'>Nande_chan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Saint Seiya, 聖闘士星矢: 冥王神話 | Saint Seiya: The Lost Canvas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canonical Character Death, Gen, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 05:48:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>756</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23328391</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nande_chan/pseuds/Nande_chan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dust can tell a thousand ordinary stories. But if it's stardust, it'd tell only the stories of the inmortal warriors who serve the Goddess. </p><p>Independent drabbles of Saint Seiya and Lost Canvas</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gemini Defteros/Virgo Asmita, Griffon Minos/Pisces Albafica</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Between cloves and cinnamon (Albafica/Minos)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            A translation of

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/383998">Rosas</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nande_chan/pseuds/Nande_chan">Nande_chan</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Now that we have time, I decided to practice my English (which is not my mother tongue) and try to translate some fics of mine. </p><p>Some of these works are in Spanish in the collections called "Signos" and "Polvo de estrellas".</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time you saw Albafica was among the crowd of Rodorio market. He was very different from you, he was a golden saint, respected and loved by the villagers; you instead were only a spice merchant, whom everyone accused of selling the merchandise at three times its price. You weren’t going to deny that maybe they were right.</p><p>Albafica was unease and when he walked alongside your stall, he touched the sack full of salt and scattered a little on the path. You didn’t even bother in reclaim him, you were too distracted by him, by the way he moved, avoiding any possible contact with the people. He flowed as a fish swimming against the current.</p><p>You laughed at yourself, fishes swimming against the current was a cheesy though.</p><p>While the tobacco in your pipe was burning out, your eyes followed him until he walked out of sight, lost in the multitude.</p><p>The next time you saw him, he walked slower when he reached your stand. It wasn’t because of you, but because of the spices and their smells. It was them what captured the attention of someone who dedicated his life to growing flowers poison scent.</p><p>The third time you noticed that he stopped for a few seconds in front of the cloves and the cinnamon. You smirked, his stop gave you enough time to observe the small imperfection on his left cheek. It was something that went unnoticed in a face as pretty as his.</p><p>For the fourth time, you had already prepared a small sack with cloves and cinnamon and put it in a corner of the stall. You hoped for him to notice it. You didn’t try to give it to him directly, you knew that he would reject it if only to avoid human contact. But he saw it and when he walked away, the sack was gone.</p><p>The last time, a pungent odour was in the ambient, like in your old stand in the market. But everything had changed and the poison scent surrounded both of you. On the bright side, you finally could touch Albafica’s soft skin, even if it was only with your fist, and you could tell him how beautiful he was to you, even thou he took it as an insult.</p><p>Dying, this time, among the smell of roses, wasn’t too bad.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Erinyes (Defteros/Asmita)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Every time he closed his eyes he saw Aspros in front of him, challenging to fulfil his duty.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Countless nights without sleeping. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Aspros in front of him, challenging to fulfil his duty. Defying him. Threating him.</p><p>He wasn’t capable of any movement, didn’t know if he should attack him, try to discuss with him or join him.</p><p>Without fail, in that instant, he always heard the voice. The fragile voice saying he had to do what was right, encouraging him to not condemn himself along with his brother.</p><p>So he did it. He charged against Aspros and averted a civil war within the Sanctuary.</p><p>He did the right thing, he won the cloth of Gemini and saved the Sanctuary from confusion and division.</p><p>He was a hero, but he didn’t feel like one.</p><p>And then, the Erinyes came to torture him. Between the walls of Gemini and in the touch of the golden cloth, he heard them whisper that he had killed his own brother. He had ended with his own blood.</p><p>It was in the worst of all the moments that Asmita with his inhuman voice appeared over and over again. His soft voice saying that he did only what was necessary. But nothing worked, the Erinyes made fun of him and soon they sounded as ethereal as Asmita.</p><p>He didn’t know anymore if he was dreaming or living. But he did know that he cannot stay in the Sanctuary any longer, not with the whispers and the ghosts hunting him.</p><p>He decided to leave for that island. The one that he and Asmita had talked about many times before.</p><p>And it worked. Halfway, but it did. The Erynies didn’t torture him anymore, but the absence of Asmita hurt him. Even thou having him close was almost as bad, because then the whispers would return.</p><p>Resigned, he looked at the volcano. Maybe he should end everything and just throw himself into the crater.</p><p>“How can you bear this hot weather? If it wasn’t for you, I’d never come to visit this hellish island again.”</p><p>That voice. Unexpected as always. Cursed and divine.</p><p>Maybe this time he could silence the whispers, either with his fists or with his lips. There was no difference.</p>
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